


Until... I Meet You

by vangull2216



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Bisexual Spencer Reid, Coffee Shops, Fluff, M/M, Piercings, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:43:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vangull2216/pseuds/vangull2216
Summary: Spencer meets a cute guy at the coffee shop and is reminded of his sexuality.





	1. Chapter 1

Spencer had toyed with the idea of liking men long ago, but had ultimately dismissed the idea. He liked girls well enough and wished to avoid the consequences of liking the same sex, so he put the thought far from his mind. Until…

Until he was called into work late in the evening, the sun having nearly set already. It was quite the odd thing, a rarer occurrence only going to shove its significance. A spree killer set off across Alabama and Georgia, already having 6 kills to his name across the two states in only two days. His last kill was mere hours before, and was deemed reason to call in the BAU. Unfortunately for Spencer, this meant he was returning to a case after the only one day grace period and a rather overwhelming lack of sleep. 

Until... 

Until Spencer wished for a nice, fresh cup of coffee before returning to work, needing something to keep him going. The stuff at the office was subpar at best, and he wanted, needed, something better to pick up his spirit for the undoubtedly long case ahead. However, being the later hour that is was, his typically coffee shop had closed for the night, and just when Spencer thought he was doomed to resign to the coffee in the break room...

Until... 

Until he stopped at a small, unfamiliar, local owned shop. Megara and unsuspecting on the outside, Spencer welcomed warm atmosphere humbly hidden inside. At the hour there were few patrons around, only two to three scattered around, undoubtedly finishing up last minute projects before heading home. 

Until... 

Until Spencer was met by the too-bright smile of the coffee barista, warm eyes smiling alone as the man greeted him. He was instantly captivated by the man, smaller in stature, a lip ring glizening when he smiled, a tattoo snaking behind his ear, down his neck, a bright flash of blue in his otherwise light brown hair. Spencer had never really considered their attractiveness until... now. 

"Sir? How may I help you?" the man repeated, his smirk of smile never leaving. It was only then Spencer realized he had been completely froze, too captivated by the man to act or speak. 

"Uh, right, of course. Sorry, I'll have a large coffee to go. Lots of sugar, please." Spencer also felt a blush rising from him, but pushed it aside, busying himself by reaching for his wallet. The man quickly recorded his order straight on the cup, before taking his money and returning him change. The barista turned and set upon Spencer's order, leaving him to sit at the bar to wait.

"Is this your first time here?" the man asked, content to make conversation while waiting for the machine. 

"Yes, yes it is. I'm not usually out so late, and most other places are closed by now." Spencer tried to watch him, without appearing to be watching, or staring rather. The man had turned to face Spencer, back against the counter as he braced himself on his hands. 

"Well, I try to stay open most the night. I want to be accessible to anyone and we're a bit popular with the college students, coming in here late to finish their homework the night before." 

Spencer nodded along, unsure of what to say for the moment. It was one of the rare moments in his life, he found he had nothing to say, so he said the first thing that came to him. "Actually about 87% of students are procrastinators, with 51% of all students finishing their work the night before and around 7% asking for extensions the day of." Knowing he was near rambling, Spencer quickly stopped himself, folding his hands and stepping them on the contour top. 

"Really?" the barista asked, leaning forward slightly. Spencer searched his features, looking for signs of falseness or sarcasm, but he only found interest. "Why would so many people procrastinate, when their careers are on the line. I've never understood why people would waste their education." 

Spencer was taken aback a moment, quickly recovering. "Absorbing media such as television and movies is the most common action students perform, rather than study, with social media a close second." He paused before picking back up, "I never understood it either, I'd more likely work ahead rather than fall behind." 

The man nodded his agreeance, beginning to say something when he was suddenly cut off by the beep of the machine. As he turned his head, more of his neck tattoo became visible, the lines forming feathers, it seemed, beginning right behind the ear and slowly tracing its way over his shoulder and disappearing under his shirt. Bright color flashed in one of them, while the others were monochromatic. "Did you know that nearly 30% of people have a tattoo, and that number has been on the rise greatly over the last few years?" 

The man turned his head, giving Spencer a small smile before finishing his order. "I'm not surprised. They are becoming more socially acceptable, with recent petitions to allow them in the professional workplace. Of course, that doesn't affect me." He turned, leaning forward to set the finished drink on the counter. "Here you go, sir. One large coffee with lots and lots of sugar." Feeling dismissed, Spencer nodded, quickly grabbing his coffee before heading to the door with his head down. 

He had only taken a few steps when a voice called him back. "Wait, sir, I forgot the heat band." Spencer turned to find the man with his hand outstretched, holding out the small band of cardboard that kept you from burning yourself on the coffee. He hadn't even noticed his was missing. He slid the cup into the band, hesitating a moment to take the drink when their fingers met. He pulled back first, suddenly embarrassed, though he couldn't quite say why. "Have a great day!" Spencer nodded again, quickly leaving before a blush took over his face. 

Until he was nearly to work and he look down to find the man's name and number, elegantly scrawled across the heat band, and he found himself blushing tenfold. 


	2. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer meets Michael for their first date. 
> 
> AN: So, this was supposed to just be a one-shot, but y'all wanted another chapter, so here it goes. I really hope you like it. At this point I really only plan on maybe one more chapter, but I can do more if you would like. Thanks for all the kudos and comments!

To say Spencer was nervous would have been a vast understatement, yet to say he was the most nervous he'd ever been in his life would have been an hyperbole. There was no way to correctly describe the anxiety and... fear, Spencer felt, walking into the modest, simple restaurant. His mind was racing, even faster than normal, running through different disaster scenarios. What if he never showed up? What if he realized Spencer wasn't really that interesting, or worthy of his time? What if one of the team members saw them? What if they stopped to say hi? Spencer could already feel his breathing contrist at the last one question, panic threning to overtake him. Nothing too terrible could happen, and if it did, he'd get over it. He'd gone through a lot, he could get through this. No problem. It was just a date. He'd talked down armed siller killers with less nerves than this.   
He was seated at the table nearly 20 minutes before he was supposed to be here, and Spencer was shocked when Michael arrived 10 minutes early. The color of his simple black shirt covered nearly all of his tattoo while his metallic blue tie accented his hair near perfected. Black and grey smokey skinny jeans lead down to the well-worn pair of combat boots he had on; giving him an overall look that was quite stunning. Objectively speaking of course.   
Spencer swallowed hard, trying to remind himself of manners, before Michael reached the table. What should he say? Hello? Should he stand and pull out the chair for him? Or was that implying Michael was supposed to be the 'girl'? Shaking his head, Spencer wearily stood, grimacing when he bumped the table slightly, although he was quick to grab his glass to prevent it was spilling and further embarrassing himself. Recovering, he suddenly felt awkward for standing, and the idea popped into his head to offer his date a handshake. But they weren't at a meeting, not to mention the germs; at that point, he might as well kiss him. A blush immedently rose to his checks, just Michael and the hostess arrived at the table. His eyes quickly seemed to assess Spencer, taking in his attire just as Spencer previously had. Spencer felt the urge to shy away from his gaze, but he held his spot, mearing running a hand over the front of sweater vest in an attempt to straighten it some. An easy grin worked its way across Michael's face, both relaxing and unnerving Spencer at the same time. "...your dinner," the woman finished, walked away and leaving them both to sit, Spencer careful this time so as not to disturb the table.   
"Are you nervous?" Michael suddenly asked, almost startling him. Spencer couldn't quite make eye contact, shifting his gaze just to the left, looking over his date's shoulder.   
"Uh. Yes, yes I am. That easy to tell?" Even with all his years of profiling and working under rather significant stress effectively, Spencer just couldn't seem to calm himself.   
"A little. But don't worry, I'm nervous too. This is my first date in... quite a while, well over a year at least." Spencer cringed slightly to himself, face-to-face with his insecurity of inexperience. Should he bring up the fact he never dated a man before? Was it too soon, or something he should get over with.   
Spencer searched for a change of topic, but was thankfully saved by the waitress, ready to collect their drink orders, Michael getting sweet tea while he asked for water. They were left for a moment to mull over the menu, Spencer taking a moment to watch him over the top of the paper. Just was the waitress returned with their drinks, ready to collect their dinner orders, Spencer's eyes landed on Michael's tattoo. After fumbling over his order, he decided to break the silence. "The tattoo on your neck, may I ask what it means?" Michael seemed caught off guard for a moment, hand brushing the tattoo as he rubbed the back of this neck.   
"Jumping right into the deep questions, are we?" he teased for a moment, laughing lightly as his easy-going nature returned in an instant. "It's, uh, for my mom. It's a swan, which she absolutely loved. It starts on my shoulder, and it's feathers fly across parts of my back and up to my neck. I love the symbolism behind them."   
Spencer's mind jumps to Gideon for a moment. "Grace, beauty, and love, right?" Gideon always did have an obsession with birds, and bird-watching, and he delved slighting into the meanings behind them, which he was all glad to share with Spencer.   
"Yes," Michael paused, seeming to ready himself for a moment. "And foreseeing impending death."   
"I'm sorry," Spencer immediately regret bringing the subject up, filling in the gaps on his own.   
"Don't be; it was a long, long time ago," he reassured him, shaking his head slightly.   
"Do you have any others?" Spencer asked quickly, eagar for a change in subject, and hopefully a more cheery one.   
"A few. I have a total of five, I think, the swan, a chest piece, a thigh piece, one on the back of my leg, and the one on my wrist."   
"Your wrist?" Spencer questioned, eyes immediately in search for one, one he certainly hadn't noticed earlier. And yet, when he turned his hand over, it was easy to see the very small, simple tattoo. Six rainbow dots, three on either side, with a black semi-colon in the middle.   
"The semicolon project," Michael explained, elaborating at the black expression on Spencer's face. "It's a sign of mental health awareness. It's used in writing; when an author doesn't end a sentence and decides to continue it instead, so it's usually a sign of someone who dealt with suicide. I had a friend who, struggled for a long time, had a lot of family problems and stuff, and he was only sixteen... He was my first boyfriend, and it was my first tattoo, I got it a week after I got the news. The dots are a sign of pride, of who I am and he was." There was an awkward pause where Spencer silently cursed himself for once again finding the seemingly worst conversation starter. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize all my stories were so depressing. I swear the others are much better. What about you, do you have any? Tattoos, I mean." Spencer studied him for a moment, wondering if he was joking. It almost sounded as if Morgan was teasing him, and was nearly offended by the assumption, but he only saw genuine interest on Michael's face.   
"No, no I don't have any. I've never really thought about it honestly. I'm not sure it's my kind of thing." Was that offensive or rude? He hadn't meant to, but had he came off as harsher than he intended?   
"You didn't didn't seem the type, but I hate assumptions. But it's my turn not make one of you. Classical music?" There was a pause, a break in the scene almost, and then suddenly both men were laughing, mood brightening as casual conversation took over the table. They talked as if they were running out of breath, or time rather, and the moment one stopped to take a breathe, the other picked up, carrying on with a story or question of their own. They slowly ate while they talked, not even realizing the food was gone until the waitress had removed the plates, not even realizing the sun was gone until the restaurant was closing. Michael was the one to notice their time was up, tilting his head to the man sweeping the floors and stacking the chairs on the tables. "I think they want us to leave. What time is it anyway?"   
Spencer turned to his watch as Michael grabbed for his phone; "10:42." As their voices echoed one another, a large smile broke across both their faces. "I hadn't realized it was late."   
"We've been here over four hours," Spencer stated, moving to stand. Michael joined him, pocketing his phone as they walked to the counter to pay their bill. Spencer was once again nervous, wondering who would pay. And what about after that? He had just decided to pay for the meal and offer to walk him home when Michael beat him to the counter.   
"Well you two be splitting the check?" the cashier politely asks, taking the ticket and ringing it up.   
"No ma'am, I'll cover it." Michael looked over to Spencer, smirking ever so slightly, "I did ask you out after all." A blush immediately covered Spencer's checks and the clerk gave them an odd look before finishing their transaction, thankfully silent.   
"So, seeing as you payed for dinner, may I offer to walk you home?" Spencer was quick to ask, almost hoping to spend more time with his date.   
"I actually drove..." As they exited the diner, Michael pulled out a set of keys, pressing the button to unlock his car. An old, dark grey chevy’s tail lights flashed once, as if introducing itself to Spencer. It was parked fairly close, and even with the distance and the darkness Spencer could see the wear and tear on the car. There were scratches here and there, as well as scuff marks. The back, right side of the bumper looked to have been dented at some point, though it was shortly fixed and never repainted. "She's not the greatest condition, but she drives," Michael commented, watching Spencer assess the car. "My dad helped me get her when I was in highschool, 'cause he needed help running errands and stuff. She never broke down for good, so I never got anything else. I don't really care what she looks like, as long as she runs well enough." Spencer nodded along, wondering if this was his cue to leave. "If you walked here, I could give you a ride home. If you don't mind of course."   
"No, no, I wouldn't mind, but you really don't have to. I enjoy walking; that and the bus are my primary modes of transportation, really," Spencer assured him, nervously hiding his hands in his pockets and rocking on his feet.   
"I insist. Please." It was the last word that got him really. There was no reason in the world for the word to sound so powerful, and as Spencer watched Michael's nervous smile, he watched his lip ring glint in the moonlight, wondering if he would ever be able to tell him no, especially over something as simple as a car ride.   
"If you absolutely insist," Spencer relented, stepping forward and opening the passenger side door.   
"I do!" Michael exclaimed happily, a child-like eagerness overcoming him. The entire ride however, was silence, a nervous air consuming both the boys. Neither could see to find anything to say, and the slow, classical music Michael had turned on once starting the car was the only noise they shared.   
"I'm, uh, right here. This apartment building." Spencer swallowed, looking down as he fiddled with the hem of his sweater vest. It suddenly reminded him how starkly different people they were, Michael and him. His date eased in front of the building, slowly parking the car and then turning to Spencer. Oh god, was he going to kiss him? Did he expect Spencer to kiss him? Michael's eyes seemed to almost glow as he gave Spencer a soft smile.   
"I've never kissed a guy before." It came out in a rush, and Spencer surprised even himself saying it. Spencer watched as Michael's face controtured from the goofy soft smile to confusion with only a few words. Ones he couldn't take back or hide any longer. And just like that, words spilled out of him like an avalanche. "I've never actually dated a guy before, or went on a date with one. I don't even know if I'm gay; I just... you're very attractive, and everything but, I don't know." Just saying those words felt like a stab to the gut, he hated saying them so much. Spencer hated when he didn't understand or know something, but he could usually learn with research, but people are different that a textbook and he didn't know what to do anymore. "I had a lot of fun, and I do like you, I just..." His chest suddenly felt constricted, to car far too small of an enclosed space for him to stand any longer. Fumbling with the door handle, he rushed out of the car, calling back, "I'm really sorry, but I don't think I can do this."  
Spencer could hear Michael calling after him and a car door slamming, but he didn't bother to look back, hurriedly climbing the outdoor stairs as he searched for the key to his apartment. He could hear steps behind him, causing him to panic further, almost dropping the key entirely under the stress he put himself in. He had just finally got the key in when a hand slammed against his door, startling him and causing him to jump back. "Spence, please. Hear me out?" The nickname, the way his voice almost cracked on the last word, the unsaid plea unhanging in the air between them; Spencer closed his eyes, collecting himself for a moment before nodding, slowly reopening his eyes.   
"Spencer, I've had a wonderful night; the best time I've had in quite a while actually. I... I don't know if you're gay or not, or bi or pan or whatever, you're the only person who can know that. But I do know you said that you like me, and I really, really like you, and to me, I think there could be something here, if you let it. We sat and talked for hours, and I didn't even realize it until I saw the time, and I think that means something. I don't care if you've never kissed a guy, I don't care if you've ever kissed anyone at all, and I'm not saying you have to kiss me now, or you have to kiss me at all. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. l just, want to see if you like me as much as I like you, if we can be something." Michael paused, backing up slightly, "And I think you do to, or else you wouldn't have taken my number, and you would've have called me, and you wouldn't have agreed when I asked you out." Spencer looked down at his key, desperately wanting to fiddle with it, though he wanted to remove it even less. It was his escape, his ticket out the whole conversation, but he wasn't so sure he wanted out any more.   
"I don't know anything. About any of this." Spencer waved his free hand, as if to encaptured all that lay between them that he didn't know or didn't understand.   
"I don't care," Michael insisted, leaning forward slightly. The distance between the two felt like too much and not enough all at once. Was this when Spencer was supposed to kiss him? Michael had assured him that he didn't want him to do anything he didn't want to, but if Spencer was being honest, that made him want to even more. Resigned to his decision, Spencer nodded to himself, trying to gather confidence. "Yeah?" Michael prompted, lips splitting into a grin as his lip ring caught the light. What would it be like to kiss someone with a ring?   
"Yes," Spencer agreed, leaning forward to close distance between them, encapturing the other man's lips. And it was, odd. Different for sure. Spencer knew his own lips were chapped slightly, but Michael's lips were softer, leaving Spencer to fleetingly wonder if regularly used chapstick. And the lip ring was more of an obstacle than anything, as Spencer didn't want to hurt him by pressing it too hard. Michael's hand had moved to cup his check, and Spencer's own had left his key. The kiss itself was fleeting, both men pulling back mutually after only seconds, but the meaning was so much more. His first kiss, well, kiss with a guy that was. Michael had leaned back once more, through his hand still remained on his check, the action causing a faint blush to raise on Spencer's checks.   
And even though he enjoyed the kiss, it all seemed to be too much, and Spencer began to feel overwhelmed. Michael could see the panic that flashed briefly across his face, and though he was gone in an instant, Michael took as sign to backup, dropping his hand back into his pocket. "Call me later?" Michael hopefully asked, relieved to see Spencer's small smile and nod of conformation.   
Spencer turned back to the door, slowly unlocking it. How could someone make him want to spend all the time in world with them, but also be so nervous he can't wait to leave. He finally slipped inside his door, turning to find Michael walking to the steps. "Goodnight!" he called out, worried he seemed rude by leaving in such a hurry.   
Michael's head perked up at the words, just as he began his descent down the stairs. "Night!" he called back, a permanent smile stuck on his face as he returned to his car.   
Spencer had a very strong distaste for the internet and technology in general, but the library was closed at this hour, and he desperately needed to look up some things. Swallowing any pride he had remaining he opened his cell, dialing the one and only Garcia, hopeful she could answer some questions, or at least allow him to look them up at her house, while keeping this from the rest of the team.


End file.
